


Sex(less) Pollen

by 44TayLo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Tony Stark, Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Internalized Biphobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sex Pollen, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (past) - Freeform, consent is important!, sort of.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: Or, the one where Tony and Bruce get doused with sex pollen and nothing sexual happens until later."Before Bruce could even feel the full effects of the pollen, Tony’s lips were on his own. Then all he was aware of was that he felt like he was pleasantly drowning. Tony’s scent had been intoxicating enough, but his hands tugging at his hair and cupping his neck sent jolts through his body. And his lips. They were insistent, demanding everything, and Bruce was overwhelmed with the desire to give all of himself to Tony.Of course, that was why Bruce pulled away. He panted a moment, keeping a solid hand on Tony’s metal-plated chest to signal him to stay away.'You’re straight.'"





	Sex(less) Pollen

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a quick one-shot. I like sex pollen as a trope, but I love consent more. This fic has a lot of both!
> 
> Tony's internalized biphobia is based on my own journey with my bisexuality. Comic-Tony is heavily implied to be bisexual, but it's also hinted in certain universes that he may be in denial about it. That kind of spurred the writing of this fic.

Strangely, the thing Bruce noticed the most was the smell. Tony’s smell, specifically. It wasn’t news to him that he had less than platonic feelings for his best friend. It wasn’t even news to him that he found him insanely attractive. What was news to him was that Tony smelled like motor oil and blood and sex.

It was all Bruce could do not to bury his face in Tony’s neck and inhale. He was beginning to suspect that the flowers the villain they’d been fighting had spontaneously raised from the ground weren’t so innocuous, after all. Tearing his gaze from Tony— but unable to block out his scent—he looked around at the others. Thor was off-world, Steve on another mission, but Natasha and Clint were here, and they were standing way too close together.

The villain had been defeated easily and taken into SHIELD custody only moments ago. The Avengers were trying to relax post-battle, Bruce having come back to himself when the flowers sprouted. He’d assumed that was the point of them, that maybe they gave off some sort of pollen or pheromone that forced him back to human form.

He was actually very interested in studying that, and perhaps that was why he decided he was reading too much into things in regards to the scent issue. Clint and Natasha didn’t hug very often, but they were dating, he reasoned. The scent thing was probably some strange side effect from Hulk being out. He did have an enhanced sense of smell, so there was every possibility that ability had transferred over to him for a while.

Bruce walked over to one of the flowers and knelt down in order to study it. It looked like a typical sunflower, though it appeared to be exuding some sort of bright-red pollen. That was strange. He made to turn and ask a nearby agent for a sample receptacle, when he was hit with a particularly harsh gust of Tony’s scent.

“Weird looking flowers,” Tony muttered, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on Bruce. His faceplate was retracted, revealing a cut on his cheek, and now at least Bruce knew why he smelled a bit like blood.

Tony knelt down next to him and made to touch the flower.

“Don’t—”

It was too late, though. Tony brushed its petals and the pollen went flying. Both men sputtered, involuntarily inhaling it.

Before Bruce could even feel the full effects of the pollen, Tony’s lips were on his own. Then all he was aware of was that he felt like he was pleasantly drowning. Tony’s scent had been intoxicating enough, but his hands tugging at his hair and cupping his neck sent jolts through his body. And his lips. They were insistent, demanding everything, and Bruce was overwhelmed with the desire to give all of himself to Tony.

Of course, that was why Bruce pulled away. He panted a moment, keeping a solid hand on Tony’s metal-plated chest to signal him to stay away.

“You’re straight.” He sounded winded, maybe because he was, everything inside of him working overtime to scream at him for sabotaging what he wanted most in that moment.

Tony opened his mouth, and for a moment, Bruce thought he was going to protest. Really, that wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. It was very possible that Tony had never expressed interest in him, other than the compulsive flirting he engaged everyone in, simply because he didn’t find Bruce attractive, in particular.

Eventually, Tony closed his mouth and didn’t say anything at all.

Bruce watched as he stepped back, put his faceplate on, and flew away. He wasn’t sure how the hell he was able to pilot the suit in this condition. He himself felt like his knees were about to give out at any second, all of his blood having rushed to his dick.

Somehow, and maybe it was because the intoxicating scent of motor oil and blood and sex was but a remnant in the air around him, Bruce managed to make it over to a kissing Clint and Natasha. They broke away, obviously not nearly as affected by the pollen as Bruce, since they hadn’t gotten a face full of it. It was clearly affecting them in some capacity, though, which was why they quickly put two and two together and helped him to the quinjet.

He was loathing having to talk about this with them, or —he shuddered, and it had nothing to do with his arousal— explain it to Fury.

* * *

Tony was avoiding him. It took only four days for Bruce to come to that conclusion. The effects of the “sex pollen,” as Clint had so lovingly named it, lasted three hours for Clint and Natasha, and twelve, agonizing hours for Bruce and, presumably, Tony.

The entire night had been spent jerking off. It seemed Bruce’s refractory period was nonexistent, and he was coming without ejaculating and without relief. Nothing helped, and even if something would have, he didn’t have the presence of mind to come up with it. The most he’d been able to come up with in terms of finding a solution besides his hand had been a cold shower. That had just led to him jerking off in there.

By the time the effects of the pollen reached their climax, Bruce was out of his mind with lust trying to chase his. He wasn’t thinking about anyone in particular, anymore. The earlier stages had been filled with uncontrollable, lust-filled thoughts and fantasies. All of them had been about Tony. But then, his desire had grown even further and he could think of nothing other than trying to satiate his arousal. He could barely remember that torturous hour past the cloud of need that had descended over him.  
  
After that, he finally ejaculated when he came, and his erection subsided. He still felt overly sensitive, craving another person’s touch. He needed to be held, caressed, kissed. It still felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe.

At least Clint and Natasha had each other, Bruce mused, staring at the ceiling at 5:00am with a chaffing dick and skin that still tingled at the slightest breeze. And Tony, well he likely had a myriad of sexual partners he could call to help him out.

It was around then that Bruce finally fell asleep.

The next day had been spent alone, holed up on his floor. He’d slept through most of it, and was content to watch _Mythbusters_ and drink tea until he felt a little more human and a lot less embarrassed.

He left his room for the first time the day after that. Luckily, Clint and Natasha were already joking about the situation. Neither one of them seemed embarrassed or hellbent on embarrassing him.

“Sex pollen,” Clint mused with a mouth full of waffles and a shake of his head. He swallowed, then shrugged. “Could have been worse.”

Natasha snorted. “We didn’t get a face full of it.”

“And be glad you didn’t,” Bruce muttered. He sipped at his tea so that he didn’t have to elaborate. That was, apparently, the end of the conversation, because neither Clint nor Natasha brought it up again.

Bolstered by how painless that had been, Bruce decided to head down to the lab. If Natasha and Clint were already over it, there was no reason to think Tony wouldn’t be, either. Of course, he hadn’t been kissed by Clint or Natasha.

Bruce figured Tony would relentlessly joke about it for the rest of the day until it no longer felt new or awkward. That, or he wouldn’t even mention it and the incident would be forgotten. What he hadn’t expected was for Tony to not come into the lab at all.

Eventually, Bruce called it a night. Maybe Tony had just needed some time to process, or maybe it had affected him longer than the rest of them. Still, Bruce had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going to be as easily resolved as he’d hoped.

Tony didn’t show up the next day, either. The day after that, Bruce asked JARVIS if Tony was okay. The AI confirmed that he was, though he seemed to be in some emotional distress. That caused Bruce to flinch. So, this was about the kiss, then.

He didn’t understand it. He’d stopped the kiss, despite how difficult that had been under the pollen’s influence. He hadn’t taken advantage of Tony. Was kissing him really so horrendous that that simple mistake alone was causing Tony to hide from him?

Bruce fell into his chair and slumped over his desk. Tony had been the only person to treat him like he wasn’t a monster from the get-go, and now one kiss had unraveled all of that. It had been stupid of Bruce to believe Tony when he’d said he wasn’t afraid of him, that he liked him. That kiss must have caused Tony’s façade to crumble. Or, it had been the thing that made him realize the truth.

Bruce was meant to be alone. Now, he felt lonelier than he had before Tony’s friendship. That was his fault, too. He should have known better than to let someone so close.

The sound of the lab doors opening caused Bruce to look up. Tony kept his eyes staring straight ahead, not even acknowledging him as he passed by.

Wringing his hands and trying to keep his composure, Bruce stood from his desk and left. He wasn’t going to encroach upon Tony’s space. This was his lab, after all, and Bruce had simply been a guest in his Tower. A Tower he didn’t belong in, anymore. It seemed it had also been a mistake to think of this place as a home.

He had almost finished packing his duffle, lost in thought about how many possessions he’d accumulated since he’d moved in, when footsteps alerted him to the fact that someone else was on his floor.

“What are you doing?”

Tony’s voice was carefully neutral. It caused Bruce to pause, and he even considered turning around, for a moment. Instead, he continued to pack and focused on not letting his own voice betray how hurt he was, right now.

“I’m packing. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in your own home.”

Bruce heard the sharp intake of breath, and before he could obsess over whether it was the precursor to a sigh of relief or a sign of distress, Tony was turning him around.

“You idiot.” Tony was frowning deeply. “You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Bruce didn’t believe that for a second. “That’s not what I saw.”

Tony folded his hands over his chest, but held his stare. His neutral expression faltered, and there it was, plain as day. Discomfort. “Fine,” he admitted. “Seeing you makes me uncomfortable, but it’s not because of you. It’s not your fault—”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bruce’s voice wasn’t demanding, but his tone was strained. It was tired. He was so very, very tired.

“I’m not straight.”

It seemed Tony wasn’t done surprising him, because that wasn’t at all how Bruce had thought he’d respond. He finally relaxed, shoulders dropping from their place up by his ears, and his head tilted, silently urging Tony to continue.

“I’ve known for a long time.” It sounded like Tony was talking through his teeth, like admitting this required him to dredge up something he’d locked away and buried long ago. “To say Howard didn’t approve would be an understatement.” He swallowed hard, and Bruce couldn’t help but notice the way his Adam’s apple jumped. “I was able to ignore my attraction to men by focusing on women, and then by the time Howard wasn’t around anymore it just didn’t seem worth it. To come out.” It became too difficult to maintain eye contact, apparently, because Tony began staring to the side of him, instead. “I don’t care what other people think. But my image was important to maintain, and Ob— Stane didn’t think coming out was a good idea, either. Then there was Pepper, and it seemed like a non-issue.”

Things began to click into place for Bruce. He’d inadvertently confronted Tony with a part of himself he’d been trained to repress. He didn’t believe for a second that this had all been about image, for Tony. The issue was deeper, more personal. Clearly, this was something that had been forced upon him by his father. No wonder Tony was so uncomfortable around him.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said quietly.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you sorry?”

Shifting his weight, Bruce tried to refrain from wringing his hands by plunging them into his pockets. “That I brought that back up for you.”

“Bruce.” Tony sounded exasperated. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m trying to explain why I’ve been an ass. This is my apology.”

Bruce shrugged. He didn’t understand why Tony was apologizing, but he was relieved that this hadn’t ruined their friendship. “Accepted. I really am sorry, though.”

Tony slumped a little, and Bruce took pity on him. He put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, hoping the touch wouldn’t be unwelcomed given the cause of his distress. Tony was tactile, though, and usually touch helped him feel better.

“I wanted Howard’s approval so badly.” Tony sounded like he was talking through his teeth, again. “I thought I was lucky I was bi, because I could just choose to be straight, and I know that’s fucked up and bullshit, but I guess I haven’t let that go.” He swallowed hard, not bothering to try to meet Bruce’s eyes. “He caught me kissing a guy when I was twelve. I didn’t even realize I was doing anything that would upset him, and he thought I was acting out.”

Bruce tried to hide his wince. He had demons that were far too similar, and he couldn’t dwell for long on that story. Still, it caused him to open his arms and offer Tony a hug. Bruce still wasn’t used to casual affection, so this was a rare thing.

Clearly grateful, Tony sagged against him. It was less like a hug, more like Bruce was holding him. He found he didn’t mind.

“I went through flower-induced hell, and the entire time I was thinking of you,” Tony admitted against his neck.

Bruce shivered involuntarily. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing.” After a beat of silence, Tony sighed. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Spell what out?”

At that, Tony pulled away enough to frown at him. “I’m attracted to you, you brilliant idiot.”

A long moment of silence stretched between them. Bruce’s brows were furrowed as he tried to make sense of that sentence. “Oh.”

“’Oh?’” Tony stepped back, quirking a condescending eyebrow. It seemed his walls were slamming back up and into place. “That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh?’”

He thought he was rejecting him, Bruce realized, and he quickly took a step forward. “No. I mean, I…I didn’t think you…”

Sighing, Tony made to turn around. “Forget it. My bad. Consider this my second apology.”

Bruce managed to grab his shoulder before he could leave. He spun him around and kissed him insistently. Words weren’t his strong suit, so he’d let his actions speak for him.

Tony responded with a small “mph” of surprise, before melting into the kiss. Strangely, even in the absence of the pollen, Bruce thought it was just as electric as their first time. He had that sensation of pleasantly drowning, again, and this close, he could smell motor oil and musk. It caused him to break the kiss and lick up the column of Tony’s exposed throat before nibbling at his ear.

Tony grunted, moving so that their hips were slotted together, and Bruce couldn’t hold back a small moan at the feeling of Tony’s clothed erection against his thigh.

He blindly walked them over to the bed, stopping only when the backs of Tony’s knees hit the mattress and he fell onto it. Bruce followed, propping himself up with his hands.

“Have you ever…” Bruce wasn’t sure how to finish that question. ‘Had sex with a man’ seemed too vague when he was trying to gauge Tony’s level of experience in this area.

“No.”

It was clear Tony was saying no to having done anything and everything. It was also abundantly clear that he was ashamed, and that was the last thing Bruce wanted. He sucked at his neck a moment before focusing on ridding themselves of their clothes. He couldn’t believe he was aroused so soon after his masturbation marathon, but this was different. This wasn’t uncontrollable, amygdala-gone-haywire lust. This was genuine affection and attraction.

“I’ve got you,” Bruce promised. He managed to slip Tony’s shirt over his head, and had to force himself not to ogle the reactor. Blue light flooded the room, and Bruce found he couldn’t keep his gaze from returning to it, even as he removed Tony’s pants.

Tony pulled at his shirt until Bruce obligingly helped him shuck it off. He quickly unzipped his pants and stepped out of them, standing in front of Tony, naked but for his blue light.

There was something raw in Tony’s voice as he looked down at the reactor. “You can touch it.”

Reverently, Bruce brushed his fingertips over the casing. He bent down over Tony, pressing a kiss to the center of it and listening to the sharp intake of breath he received in response. He began leaving a trail of kisses, until he reached the point where metal met flesh, and then he kissed there, too.

Tony was breathing hard from just that, and Bruce couldn’t help but smile as he tweaked his nipple and received a whimper.

For all of his pollen-infused, half-formed fantasies, nothing compared to the real thing. He took his time, when in those fantasies the sex had been rough and fast, and he was tender, rather than animalistic and crazed by that fog of lust.

When he’d finally kissed from the reactor down to the hem of Tony’s boxers, he pulled them down and took him into his mouth. In the past, he would have requested a condom or asked when his partner was last tested, but he couldn’t contract anything, anymore.

He listened as Tony sucked in a breath, felt the way the muscles in his thighs tensed and his abs clenched. He’d figured this would be similar enough to what he’d done with women. The last thing he wanted to do was make Tony uncomfortable.

“Bruce, fuck,” Tony gasped, and Bruce couldn’t help but make a pleased, humming noise. The sensation caused Tony to keen, and Bruce looked up when he felt hands tugging pleasantly on his curls.

God, it felt good to make Tony feel this good, to feel his hands in his hair, to just be touched. Bruce didn’t even realize he was moaning around Tony, so lost in his desire to bring him pleasure.

“I’m going to…if you keep moaning like that…” Tony was panting, and Bruce could feel the way he trembled with the strain of his impending orgasm.

Bruce moaned deliberately in reply. That was all it took, and Tony was spilling down his throat. He swallowed, continuing to suck and lick until Tony went boneless. He pulled off of his softening cock with a pop, and smiled when he saw Tony looking down at him.

“Do I get to return the favor?”

Bruce laughed, crawling further up the bed. He opened his nightstand drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube before he settled back down on the bed, laying parallel to Tony. He then gently grabbed Tony’s hand. He massaged his palm, flashing him a reassuring smile and feeling bolstered by the warmth in his eyes and expression, he poured the lube. Slowly, gently, he guided Tony’s lube covered hand to his aching dick. Blowing Tony had brought him so close to the edge, it wouldn’t take much. He hummed low in his throat, much the same way he had around Tony’s cock in his mouth, and guided Tony’s hand up and down.

He was panting in a matter of minutes. He was close. He was so fucking close.

“Kiss me?” he asked breathlessly, and Tony did. He was overcome with that desire to give Tony everything he was, everything he could be. He jerked against him and moaned his pleasure into Tony’s mouth as he came.

The relief of coming and being immediately sated was almost overwhelming. After a long moment of basking in his afterglow, Bruce opened his eyes. Tony had broken the kiss, but he hadn’t gone far. He was holding him, running gentle fingers up and down his back and smiling in the blue light between them.

“Good?” Bruce asked. He’d thought it had been, but he wanted to make sure he hadn’t pushed Tony’s boundaries at all.

“Was my orgasm not enough of an answer for you?” There was no bite to Tony’s words, just a playful smile to accompany them.

Bruce returned Tony’s embrace, wrapping his own arm around him and pulling them flush against each other. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Idly, he began playing with Tony’s hair, running his fingers through it.

“Hm.” Tony seemed content to remain pressed against Bruce’s chest, leaving a chaste kiss there. “We can get more adventurous, next time.”

That caused Bruce’s fingers to still. Tony looked up at him with a smile. “What, did you think this was a one and done, ‘wham, bam, thank you man?’”

Bruce couldn’t help but snort at the change in phrase. “Slant rhyme,” he chided. He hadn’t thought that far ahead one way or the other, really. It did set his mind at ease, though.

“Alright, more adventurous next time,” he agreed. As he fell asleep next to Tony, he couldn’t help but hope that there were going to be many “next times.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
